"From all this, godmother, two things result. You must learn the mystery which impels Morville to avoid you, and you must reduce Charles de Brévannes to silence." "Yes, it must be done; but how?--alas!--how: I am indeed wretched!" "Then Iris is nothing with you?" said the young girl, with great bitterness. The princess was struck with it, and replied kindly,-- "Yes, my dear child, I can tell all to you, and that is consolation to me." At this moment a solemn, sonorous, and powerful sound, full of sweetest harmony, but rendered faint by the distance, reached the ears of the two women. It was the notes of an organ, touched with an exquisite finger and saddened expression. At these tones the princess shuddered, and then cried,-- "Ah, 'tis he! He is still watching. Ah! Now, my head is so weak that the sound of this organ appears to me fearful and supernatural; they are not the sounds of this instrument I hear, but the mysterious voices of an invisible world replying to the prince who questions them. Oh, mercy, mercy! it terrifies me!" By a singular chance, and as if the entreaty of the princess were heard, the sound of the organ slowly died away in the silence of the night, like a complaint that gradually subsides. "This conversation overpowers me. I tremble all over," said Paula. "You must go to bed, godmother." After having aided her in undressing with the utmost care, and respectfully kissed Madame de Hansfeld's hand, Iris closed the door of her godmother's chamber, drew a sofa across the sill, which, opening, formed a bed, and, having carefully bolted the entrance of the secret staircase, threw herself on the couch, and was soon in a deep slumber. CHAPTER X THE PRINCE DE HANSFELD An immense chamber, occupying the whole of one wing in the Hôtel Lambert, formed the entire dwelling-place of Arnold de Glustein, Prince of Hansfeld, the mysterious personage, concerning whom so many strange conjectures and varied rumours were afloat. And well might the aspect of the long gallery or chamber we are about to describe warrant the many charges of whimsical originality. The moment chosen for introducing the reader to this strange abode is shortly after the sounds of the organ had ceased (to the extreme satisfaction of the princess), that is to say, about the hour when the pale light of a winter's day began to dissipate the mists of the morning.